His gaze promised retribution for slowing down the moment. I wanted to savor his attention. My insecurities were gone. How could they bother me when simple dry-humping got him this worked up?
I sat back on his thighs and took my time rolling the condom down. His cock twitched under my fingers, and he massaged my thighs. I gave his erection a few lazy pumps. His gaze was on my hand, then on the junction between my thighs, then back to my hand.
“Get on, wife. Show me how you ride.”
My chest grew tight. Wife.
I shifted and placed him at my entrance. Then I sank down. Slowly. With each inch, he balled up with tension, his knees bending behind me. He rolled up slightly.
When I was fully seated and so damn full of him, Irocked to adjust to his size. “You’re so big.” I might sound like I was in a porn, but I was telling the truth. I’d thought penises like his were a fantasy. It was like I’d special ordered him. Give me an almost perfect husband to test for a month.
“Jesus.” He crunched up, gripped my ass to grind me down onto him, and tongued a nipple.
A long, needy moan left me. “Gideon.”
I didn’t have much room to move, but I did. He loosened his grip and lay back. “Fucking ride me, firecracker.”
I tipped my head back, my hair brushed against my lower spine, and I stuck my chest out. I increased the pace and my breasts swayed, then bounced, just like he wanted.
“Fuck, yes,” he said tightly.
I was ready to ride him for as long as he wanted, letting my climax build and stall. I could control the rise in this position. But then he ran his thumb across my lips. I licked it. Heat filled his gaze a second before he dropped that thumb and stroked it across my soaked clit.
Oh god. I gasped and had to tip forward. He was working my clit as I rode him. The sensations were too much and then he used his other hand to massage a nipple.
“Gideon,” I whined.
“Say it again.”
“Gideon.” I was getting out of breath. I was fighting off the climax, wanting this to last longer, but it was impossible with him.
“What else can you call me?”
My mind was too focused on my center to work. “Gideon.”
“What else, rusty?”
Right. Nickname. “City boy?”
“What else?” He eased the pressure on my clit. I wanted to cry. I had to come. I needed to.
A tremble racked my body. I was on the precipice, and he was keeping me there.
“What else, wife?”
I never called him anything else, but I knew what he wanted. “H-husband.”
The calloused stroke of his thumb was back. The storm inside me reached a crescendo and explosions detonated behind my eyes. I flung my head back, crying out something unintelligible.
He rolled up, grinding into me, his hips bucking as he came. I wrapped my arms around him, and he buried his head into my chest.
“Fuck, Autumn.”
When I crashed down, he caught me. I was limp. He rolled us to the side. No one would guess I wasn’t the one who’d spent the day on a horse. I let him slip out of my body. The baggy end of the condom dragged against my thigh. He glanced between us and his expression shuttered.
What did that look mean?
I was about to snuggle into him when he reached over the edge of the bed and grabbed the towel.
